A BARGAIN.

Temuka Leader, Volume I, Issue 96, 16 November 1878, Page 3

A BARGAIN.

Wo w-re irr-vmg down the bay now, and it w s pic. s.m; to stand at the window and take tin* cool night-breeze and watch the gliding lights on shore. JT'scntly, two elderly men sat down under tlmt window, ami began a conversation. Their talk was properly no business of mine, and yet I was feeling friendly toward the world and willing to be mtertained. I soon gathered that they were brothers, that they were from a small Connecticut village, and that the mailer in hand concerned the ccmeterv. Said one :

“ Now, John, we talked it all over amongst ourselves, and this is what we’ve done. You see everybody was a movin’ troin the old buryin’ ground, and our folks was most about left to theirselves, as 3*oll may sav r . They was crowded, too, as you know, —lot wasn’t big enough in the first place ; and last year when Seth’s wife died we couldn’t hardly tuck her in. She sort o’ overlaid Deacon Shorb’s lot, and lie soured on her, so to speak, and on the rest of us, too. So we talked it over, and i was for a lay-out in tl e new simitcry on the hill. . They wa'n’t unwilling, if it was cheap. Well, the two best and Ivggest plots was No. 8 and No. 9. Botli of a size ; nice, comfortable room for twentv-six, —twents'-six fnll-growus, that is, —but you reckon in children and other shorts, and strike an evorage, and I should say you might lay in thirty, or may be thirty-two or three, pretty genteel, no crowdin’ to signify.” “That’s a plenty, William. Wnich one did you buy ?” “ Weil, I’m coming to that, John. You see No. S was thirteen dollors, No. 9 fourteen ” “ I see. So’s’t you took No. 8.” “ You wait. I took No. 9. And I’ll tell 3 r on for win*. In the first place Deacon Short) wanted it. Well, after the wav he'd gone on about Seth’s wife overlappin’ his pvem’ses, I’d a beat him out of that No. 9 if I’d a had to stand two dollars extra, let alone one. That’s the way I felt about it. Says I, what’s a dollar any way ? Life’s on’y a pilgrimage, says I ; we ain’t here for good, and we can’t take it with ns, says I. So I just damped it clown, knovvin’the Lend don’t suffer a good deed to go for nothin,’ and cal’latin’ to take it out o’ somebody in the course o’ trade. Then there was another reason, John. No. 9s a long way the hamlyest lay-out in the simitey, and the likeliest f. r situation. It lays right 011 the top of a knoll, in the dead centre of the buryin, ground ; and you can see M.llporfc freni dicre, and Tracy’s, and Hopper Mount, and a raft o’ farms, and so on. There ain’t no better outlook from a buryin’ plot in the State 1 , Si Higgins savs so. end I reckon lie ought to know. Well, and that ain’t all. Course Shorh had to take No 8 ; wa’n’t no help for’t. Now, No. 8 j ncs on to No. 9, but its on the slope of the hill, and every time it "ains it’ll soak right down on to 'he Shorbs. Si Higgins savs ’l when tae deacon’s time comes, he better take out fire and marine insurance both, on ir’s remains.” Hein was sound of a low, placid, duplicate chuckle of appreciation and satisfaction.

“ Now, John, heiv’s a little rough j draft (f die ground that I’ve made on | a p'eco < f paper. Up here in the left : hand corner we’ve hunched the departed ; ; t iok them from the old graveyard and | stowed "them one alongside o’ t’other, | on a lirst-come-first-served plan, no partialities, with gran’ther Jones for a starter, ou’y because it Imppened so, and windin’ up indiscriminate with Seth’s twins. A little crowded towards the end of the lav-on), may be ; hut we reckoned t’ wa’n’t best to scatter the twins. Well, next comes the livin’. Here, where it’s marked A, we’re gom’ to put Mariar and her family when they’re called ; F>, that’s for brother Hosea anf hisn ; G, Calvin and trhe. What’s left is these two lots here,—just the gem of the whole patch for general style and outlook, —they’re for me and my folks, and you and yourn. Which of them would you ruthcr be buried in ?’’ I swan you’ve took me mighty unexpected, William ! It sort of startoc the shivers. Fact is, I was thinkin’ so busy about makiu’ things comfortable for the others, I hadn’t thought about being buried myself.” “ Life’s ou’y a fleetin’ show, John, as the savin’ is We’ve all got to go, sooner or later. To go with a clean record’s the main thing. Fact is, it’s the on’y thing worth strivin’ for, John.” “ Yes, that’s so, William, that’s so ; there ain’t no getting around it. Which of these lots would you recommend ?” “ Well, it depends, John. Are you particular about outlook ? ” “ I don’t say I am, William : I don’t say T ain’t. Roely, I don’t know. But mainly, I reckon, I’d set store by a south exposure.” “That’s easy fixed, John. They’re both south exposure. They take the sun and the Shorhs’s get the shade.” “ How about sile, William ?” “ D’s a sandy sile, E’s mostly loom.” “ You may gimme E, then, William ; a sandy sile caves in, more or less, and costs for repairs.” “ All right ; set your name down here, John, under E. Now, if you don’t mind payin’ mo your share of the fourteen dollars, John, while we’re on the business, everything’s fixed.” After some higgling and sharp bargaining the money was paid, and John l ade his brother good-night and ; took his leave. There was silence for j some moments ; then a soft chuckle j welled up from the lonely Will'am, and he muttered : “ I declare for’t, if I haven’t made, a mistake ! It’s D tliatV.

mostly !o , not E. And John’s booked fin- a- a ,dy sile after all.” Tic r<* was an ther si.fi chtukV, am' Wiili .m depart d to ais . t, u .m, Mark i wain.